Wartime Spirit
by darksupernatural
Summary: The guys get a call from Bobby asking them to check out a hunt. It leads to Rural Maryland and trouble for the Winchesters. Updated nightly. Hurt,sick,limpSam! AngstyDean! PLEASE REVIEW! NOW COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I challenged someone to write a fic using lore from their home area. Not saying any names until she posts (if you're reading there's no pressure!) I decided to do the same thing. I lived near a historically significant, although not well known, landmark that has offered some strange tales from friends during my youth. Everything from finding things from history to swearing they hear muskets and flintlocks firing in the night. Much of this fic is made up, like the particulars of the spirit and pieces of the back story I gave my original character in the fic. But some is true. Not saying which is which either. This is a legend taken from literally my backyard and given a Supernatural twist. Hope you all enjoy. BTW, the baby crying is real; I've heard her and know her story. And no I am not crazy! Please hit the little button people. Let me know if this one works.**

**A/N 2: This one is set S2 between Heart and Hollywood Babylon. Heart was a good one but HB needed some serious help. Hoping this fills the gap for anyone who feels the same. Also, quick apology to anyone named Brittany. Dean's reaction to that one is priceless. My muse is also slightly twisted. **

**Wartime Spirit**

**Chapter 1**

Sam was sitting in yet another flea bag motel room in yet another backwater town. This time it was Belvidere, North Carolina at a Quality Inn. Sam glanced at the faded wallpaper and carpet spotted with God only knows what and snorted "Quality. Yeah, right." He rolled the shoulder that had been paining him and winced. He had taken a beating on the last hunt and had been asleep, crammed into the front seat of the Impala when Dean had checked them in with a 'Get some rest, Sammy. I'll be back soon." Dean had gone to hustle some pool as they were nearly out of cash and the med kit was down to bare bones. "Not even any freakin' Aspirin." Sam muttered irritably.

He was sitting on the bed, propped up against the headboard. He knew it wouldn't work for him to get any sleep. He hurt too badly. He rolled his shoulder again, pain bringing back the memory of hitting a cement block wall of a mausoleum while Dean was trying to burn the bones of a body belonging to a pain in the ass spirit. Dean managed to light the match just as Sam had been picked up by his semiconscious throat and shook like a rag doll. Now Dean was out, doing who knows what and Sam was in the motel, in pain.

_My great big brother._ Sam shook his head ruefully._ Too much time in too close quarters._ Sam dark and stormy thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. He looked at the screen and answered when he saw the familiar number.

"Hey Bobby." Sam said on a weary sigh.

"Sam, you okay?"

"Little beat up. Freakin' ghost. Yeah, I'm okay."

"You boys feel up to checkin' somethin' out for me?"

"A hunt?"

"Yeah. I know the girl. She had to have her hands full with this one for her to call me. Her granddaddy was a hunter. One of the best. Her Momma took her from her Daddy when she was a girl 'cause he wanted to teach her the ropes. Her Momma had nothin' to do with it and bailed with her. Now she says somethin's on her Daddy's land that she manages."

Sam walked to the table with his phone to his ear and grabbed the complimentary memo pad and pen that rested there. He eased his sore body down into the ratty chair and shifted his phone to his left hand so he could write. "Okay Bobby, give me the low down." Sam glanced up when he heard the lock click to find Dean stumbling through the door with a grin on his face and a bruise on his jaw. Sam rolled his eyes at his big brother and turned his attention back to Bobby and the paper before him.

"Uh huh. Brittany Logan." He wrote on the notepad. "Where in Maryland? Okay." He jotted down an address and Dean looked at him quizzically, cocking his head to the side and arching an eyebrow. Sam motioned with one finger for Dean to wait a minute. "She know what it is?" Sam listened. "Okay, Bobby. Yeah we'll check it out. Hey, how come you didn't take this one?" Sam listened again. He grinned and laughed. "Yeah, okay, I get it 'old man'. I'll call with an update when we figure out what it is. Talk to you later. Yeah, we will Bobby." Sam hung up and looked at Dean.

"What did Bobby want?" Dean asked and moaned as he rubbed his bruising jaw.

"He has a hunt he wants us to check out. Rural Maryland, about two and a half hours west of D.C. She runs a hiking and trail riding park. Name's Brittany Logan. Twenty-seven. Says there's something killing people in her woods."

"Whoa, wait a minute… Brittany?"

"Yeah, why?"

"_Brittany._ I can't wait to meet that one. Probably bleach blonde and afraid to get dirty. This is gonna be fun…" Dean snorted sarcastically.

"Dean, you are such an ass." Dean pulled a bag out of his pocket and tossed it at Sam. He caught it and winced when he had pain in his shoulder.

"Yeah well, this _ass_ scored three hundred dollars and enough Aspirin to put your ass back into working order. Let's get some sleep and hit the road in the morning. You need me to look at that shoulder?"

"Nah, I just need some sleep."

"Sam, you slept for the last two hundred miles. You sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Dean." Sam popped two aspirin from the new bottle and dry swallowed them. He went to his bed and stiffly pulled back the covers, well aware that Dean was watching his every move. He forced himself to relax and get into bed without grimacing. He breathed deeply and fell asleep as the pain pills began to do their job.

**A/N: I decided to do something different with this one. This is where it stops for tonight. I'll post the next chapter tomorrow evening with chapters every night and Saturday morning since I'm working that night. Sorry if this chapter seem a bit slow. It is the opener and trust me, it gets better from here. Catch you tomorrow evening and PLEASE HIT THAT LITTLE BUTTON! Thanks all.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much for all the great reviews. To anyone I haven't personally thanked yet, you've made my day.So many reviews and fave alerts. Thanks all for the gratifying response. I'm humbled and appreciative! Enjoy the next chapter and here comes the little part I mentioned last chapter where I am not crazy. Drop me a line. Enjoy! Also to the real life Brittany Logan, Here's the start of Dean gaining some respect for the name! **

**Chapter 2**

Morning came and Sam found himself waking up to the familiar rumble of the Impala. _Dean must've gone for breakfast._ Sam sat up in bed and although stiff, he found himself pain free. Dean opened the door and came through, a box of donuts and two coffees in his hands. He sat the donuts down on the table and handed Sam a coffee as he stood from the bed and joined Dean at the chipped veneer table in the corner of the room.

"So, this hunt Bobby wants us to take. Think there's anything to it?"

"He said the girl has video that one of the people who got killed had taken. He also said her grandfather was a hunter and she knows a little bit although she doesn't hunt. Said it had to be serious for her to call. Because of some family trouble she was forbidden to see anyone that was playing the game."

Dean bit into a donut and snorted, blowing the white powdered sugar in Sam's direction. Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled at Dean's antics. Dean chewed hastily and swallowed. "A hunter named Brittany. That would be a first in my book."

"Dude, remember when you told me to warn you about being an ass?"

"Yeah."

"You're being an ass."

"We'll see. Get your shower and we'll hit the road." Sam showered while Dean packed their stuff and loaded the car. He was wiping down the room and making sure they missed nothing when Sam emerged from a cloud of steam, ready to go.

"Get everything?"

"Yep." Dean threw Sam's duffle at him and Sam picked up the messenger bag containing his laptop. Dean grabbed his own duffle and headed for the car and apparently Maryland on this hunt. Dean chuckled again. "Brittany."

"Dude, ass alert. Don't judge a book by its name."

"Why not, you do."

"Those are translated Latin, and when the title isn't translated right…"

"Yeah, I get it." The Impala rumbled out of the parking lot and headed north. Seven hours later they were pulling onto a very rutted gravel and dirt road that led back into the woods. Dean had slowed the Impala to a crawl, the rumble of the engine that was used to being run fast, and the grimace on Dean's face suggested he was not happy.

"Dude I swear if this goat path does anything to my car, _Brittany_ is gonna dive into that trust fund and fix it." Dean slowed down even further as brush screeched off the paint job. "Damn it!" he swore. The Impala slid into a rut and he heard the exhaust bounce off the edge of a pot hole. Dean growled, "Freakin' Bobby, stupid hunts in ditchwater burgs. Can't we ever catch one that doesn't involve abusing my baby?"

"Dean, your _baby_ is a car. Just a car."

Dean looked at Sam as if horrified that he'd say something like that before he slowly began pulling a hill that appeared to be the only part of the road that was dry and rut free in April. He topped the hill at a crawl and saw the road widening slightly. Mud glistened on the road surface and two small dirt bikes were playing in it, spinning circles; the tires kicking copious amounts of mud up onto the exposed riders. Dean ground the Impala to a halt. "No freakin way!" He exclaimed. Sam chortled. Dean saw a driveway off to the side and noticed it was smooth, dry and well graveled. He turned the wheel and moved the Impala into the drive. It went above the mud pit, a smooth drive compared to the rest of the road and Sam watched out the side window as one of the riders power-braked and popped a wheelie at the same time, kicking jets of mud out from behind the dirt bike's back tire and burying the other rider. Sam chuckled again.

"Cool." He said. Dean glanced at him with a disbelieving look on his face until he caught the adventuresome glint in Sam's eyes.

Dean grinned. "If we don't piss her off too bad maybe we can rent some wheelers from her and have some fun for a day or so since we'll be between hunts." Sam looked at Dean and grinned. Dean glanced back at the gravel drive in time to round a curve and see a house come into view. It was fairly small, sided in rough wood siding that seemed to make it blend into the forest. It was situated on top of a gentle hill. The cabins below it appeared to be guest lodging for hikers and such and although they looked like large mini barns they appeared comfortable and were sided to match the house. Dean stopped the car in a gravel lot to the west of the house and he and Sam got out of the car. Sam looked around and gave a low whistle.

"It's nice." He said as they began walking up to the house. The door opened and a large dog came trotting out. Sam and Dean stopped in their tracks, not sure how to handle the easily ninety pound animal. It was a mutt obviously, with a very stocky body and shaggy black and brown fur. It came down the steps of the porch and stopped at the bottom, looking at first Sam then Dean. It came slightly closer before stopping again. It looked at them and then sat back on its haunches. The dog cocked its head to the side and Sam smiled. He tentatively reached a hand out to the dog.

"Sam." Dean warned quietly.

"I think its okay, Dean." Sam said. The pooch stood again and came to stand in front of Sam's outstretched hand. It sniffed and sat down again, flopped a black spotted tongue out the side of its mouth and cocked its head to the side again. Sam laughed as the dog lowered its head and head-butted Sam's hand.

"Hey there, big fella. What's your name?" Sam crouched down and rubbed the dog's fur at his neck, ruffling the "mane" of fur beneath his ears.

"His name's Kody. Short for Kodiak. He looked like a bear as a pup. Now I get wolf." Sam glanced up to see a pair of boots come out on to the stained wood porch.

Dean saw two hiking boot clad feet come out onto the covered porch of the house and stop. He followed the jeans covering the top of the boots up a pair of slim legs, long legs that ended at a flannel shirt left unbuttoned over a black tee. His eyes stopped when they encountered the rifle clasped in the crook of an arm. His stance changed and he quickly perused the rest of the woman. His eyes took in broad shoulders and slightly longer than mid back light brown hair flopped over the shoulder of the arm holding the rifle in a neat braid. Dean's green eyes met brown ones beneath delicate brows in a face graced with a warm smile and high cheekbones. Sam stood from the dog's side and Kody remained on his haunches at Sam's feet.

"You two must be Sam and Dean. Bobby told me to be on the lookout for an irate driver of a black Impala. Nice car by the way." She looked over the car appraisingly, taking in the curves that seemed to be in all the right places. "I'm Brittany Logan. Come on inside." She turned and opened the door. Turning back she gave an earsplitting whistle that had both Sam and Dean jumping slightly. The dog, Kody, jumped to attention and tail wagging, bolted for the porch and went inside as his mistress held the door open for him. She motioned for the guys to follow the dog. Sam walked up onto the porch, his boots thumping on the smooth wood and took the door from her hands, allowing her to lead the way into her house. Dean followed, shaking his head. Sam and Dean followed Brittany into the kitchen and took the stools that circled the island the chef's kitchen offered. The house was larger than it appeared and very nicely decorated.

"Would you guys like some coffee? I know you had a fairly long trip here."

"Sure." Sam said. She soon had cups of coffee poured for them and in each of their hands. She put milk and sugar in front of Sam and a plate of banana-nut bread in front of Dean. He took a piece and bit into it, practically moaning in pleasure. Brittany smiled.

"I take it its edible then?"

"Good." Dean said around another bite of the bread. Sam chuckled and took a piece for himself, biting into it a little more gentlemanly. He nodded in agreement with Dean.

"Thank you." She said smiling.

"Bobby said you think something is in your woods. What is it Brittany?"

"Call me Brit. Brittany makes me sound like a trust fund case." Sam looked at Dean and grinned. Dean choked on a bite of bread. Brit looked at them both quizzically. Sam stilled and Dean gave a cough and smiled sheepishly. "I rent out ATVs and day passes for people to hike on my ninety acres. It's got about a hundred miles of trails and two refilling shacks for the wheelers on top of the mountain. My uncle shares the land with me and he runs search and rescue if necessary. He also runs the sat phone and radio center back the road. My dad gave me his half of the land when he got too old to maintain the shacks and trails. Since then it's grown. My uncle had wanted to keep his half of the land trail free until he saw how many people truly enjoyed themselves. Until recently at least."

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"I rented two wheelers and a camcorder to a couple of History majors from Allegheny College. They wanted to video tape a particular trail. It's a part of the Braddock Road. You know the trail General Braddock took his troops on during the French and Indian war before his defeat?"

Sam nodded. "I studied that in college. Things that happened then led to Washington becoming president."

"Anyway, they missed curfew and my Uncle went out with the rescue rig to find them. All my bikes are rigged with GPS. He found the bikes and the camcorder. Then he found the bodies. They were in the ravine that made up the bottom of the trail where they had been filming their research project. Both of them had stab wounds. From Bayonets. There was a scrap of rotten gold colored cloth clasped in the guy's hand. The girl had a tarnished brass button in her fist when Uncle Jerry found them."

"So they put up a fight."

"Yeah."

"The video catch anything?" Sam asked. Brit moved to the kitchen TV and turned it to where they could see. She hit play on the camcorder attached to it. The mini-cam footage showed the two students, the girl acting as a documentary reporter with the guy behind the camera. The camera shook slightly and Sam and Dean heard the guy utter a foul word and call the girl by her name. "Kayla!" The guy said. The camera focused on a figure behind the girl and the guy cussed again. The girl turned to the spirit, Sam saw now, the era red and gold uniform and flintlock with a bayonet affixed to the end, but he could also see the tree directly behind the soldier. The camera fell when the girl cried out and although the footage lost focus the camera had landed facing the people and picked up the fight as the spirit attacked. The girl screamed and fell, the camera catching a knife wound in her chest in sharp focus. The guy cried out and fell, also in camera range. The camera flickered, static filling the image as the spirit stepped in front of it. The boots easily identifiable as that era with the heavy smooth leather soles and spurs attached. The spirit disappeared. Brit shut off the camera and the TV.

"This is the first you've had any trouble like this?"

"Like this yes. Did Bobby tell you how I first met him when I was little?"

"No." Dean and Sam both said in unison.

"There was another haunting. The neighbor below me was demolishing an old cabin that had been abandoned twenty years or so before I was born. Jerk planned to put in a hunting cabin and run the hikers off my land. A lot of people come here to watch the animals and hope to see something they've never seen before. That and the rocks at the top of the mountain. You climb those rocks you can see into both Pennsylvania and West Virginia. It's awesome. Anyway, he bulldozed the cabin and brought in a large prefab building to turn into a hunting cabin. What he didn't know, that my father _tried_ to tell him, was that the family that had the place before had a cemetery on the lot. There was an infant buried there along with her father. The child had died two weeks after being born and her death devastated the father. He said he'd never give her up so he killed himself to be with her. The wife's brother came and got her in the middle of the night after she'd found her husband and the place had stayed empty all these years.

The jerk, when he demolished the cabin, disturbed the graves. The first few nights we could hear the baby girl crying. She sounded so lonely. Then the guy came back to do some more work on his cabin and the baby's cries spooked him. He sat all night on the porch of the cabin with a gun in his hands. That night the baby stopped crying and you could hear her giggling and cooing like someone was playing with her. Then you heard the man that owned the new cabin scream and I swore I heard another man's voice say "I'll never let anyone hurt my baby." The next morning the owner was dead. His hair was white. He had this terrified look frozen on his face and a rotted baby blanket clutched in his hands. My granddad, who knew Bobby, called for help and together they put the spirits to rest. My dad bought the land from the wife of the jerk and the family cemetery was put back the way it had been. My dad decided that from then on, since I'd been involved, he wanted to teach me how to defend myself against these supernatural things. My mom would have nothing to do with it so she took me and left. My mom died when I was twenty and I found my dad again. When he felt he was too old to manage the land he gave it to me and I use some of the profits to keep him in an assisted living apartment just a few miles away."

"We'll find this spirit." Sam said. "I'll do some research tonight and see if I can't find out who we're dealing with."

"There's WiFi in the cabins. Take your pick which one you want to stay in. The only one that's occupied is the last one. The sisters you probably saw on the dirt bikes are staying there.

"Sisters?" Dean questioned with a smirk on his face. Sam rolled his eyes and Brit chuckled.

"Don't get any ideas hot shot. They're seventeen and nineteen. Local motocross riders."

"They're good. They were bogging when we came in. Buried in mud." The guys stood and left the kitchen. Brit followed them out.

"I'll see you guys in the morning. Breakfast is at seven. You can meet the girls."

**A/N: So there's another one. Next one up tomorrow evening. Let me know if you're still hanging with me and just so you know it's about to get rough for the boys. I hope to see you all back tomorrow night! Please Review. Cookies for all!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Forgot to mention: Don't own 'em just giving them a hard time! Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Enjoy the start of the action in this next chapter.  
**

**Chapter 3**

Sam and Dean got their bags from the Impala and made their way to the cabin closest to Brit's house. Sam went inside and gave another low whistle. The inside of the cabin was the same wooden walls as outside but everything was sanded smooth and glowed with a coat of polyurethane. The furniture, from the overstuffed chairs to the two double beds, was new looking and matched perfectly. An actual desk stood in the corner of the room with a swivel office chair in front of it. Sam dropped his bag on his usual bed and immediately pulled his laptop out, booting it up. Dean dropped his bag at the foot of his bed and went out to the car again, returning shortly with the weapons bag. He sat down to clean the shotguns for tomorrow while Sam hammered furiously away at the keyboard.

"Huh." Sam said sometime later. Dean had finished with the guns and was leaning back against the knotty pine headboard.

"What'd you find?"

"I remembered from the video that the trail in the ravine bottom looked blocked by boulders. I checked some local reference material and it shows a detailed layout of the road General Braddock used. There were no blockages, even though it was a winding trail. Those rocks moved recently somehow. Remind me to ask Brit about that. I found something else though. Apparently there was a small mutiny among the soldiers. Some of the more injured, tired ones tried to get Braddock to stop and allow them to rest. One soldier, Jonathan Murphy, was more outspoken than the others. Braddock charged him with treason and killed him on the trail. Get this, he ran Murphy through with his own bayonet. Ordered to other soldiers to let the body lay for the scavengers. Said anyone who tried to get near the body would be charged also. Then he told them if they wanted to rest they would stay right there. Braddock ordered a halt and forced the company to stay with a decomposing body in their midst for three days." Sam closed the laptop and moved to his bed. Pulling sweats from his bag, he went to the bathroom to change. He took off his flannel but left his t-shirt on. He heard Dean rattle off a question as he came back out the out.

"So that's enough to make a pissed off spirit, but what woke it up after two hundred and fifty two years?

"I see someone remembers basic math from school." Sam quipped.

"Shut up, Sasquatch." Dean said, pulling the pillow from behind his back and chucking it at Sam. Sam returned the pillow with a whip of his own and hit Dean in the face with it. Dean pulled it off his head and looked at Sam. "I guess we didn't piss her off. You really wanna see if she'll rent us a couple bikes after the hunt?"

"It'd be different." Sam said with a hopeful note to his voice. Dean nodded. Dean slid under the covers and was soon asleep. Sam slept too, for the first time not really bothered by his dreams.

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The next morning sunlight streamed through the windows and woke Sam. He rolled over in bed to find Dean already up. Sam glanced at his watch. 7:30. He bolted from the bed and quickly changed from his sweats to the jeans he wore yesterday, throwing on a clean t-shirt and gray flannel. He pulled on his hiking boots and left the cabin. He found Dean outside the cabin, coffee in hand, watching the sun glitter off the new leaves. The peace that enveloped Sam when he watched Dean enjoying his moment was interrupted by car doors slamming. The sisters were loading up to leave and appeared to be in a hurry. They had their bikes strapped to the trailer behind their SUV, and were loading riding gear and clothes into the back of the blue Jeep.

Brit came out of her house with two travel mugs and a disposable covered dish. She made her way to the girls, Kody at her side. Dean and Sam watched her talk to the girls, who made several agitated gestures and they got into their vehicle and took off, spinning gravel out of the lot. Sam and Dean watched on as Brit slowly made her way to their side.

"What happened, Brit?"

"They went out early this morning on two of my quads to watch the sunrise from the rocks at the top of the mountain. They saw the spirit and freaked. It shot at them and flattened one of the tires on the bike. She jumped onto her sister's bike and they barely made it back here. They couldn't get out fast enough. If they talk, they'll shut me down and my dad will lose his apartment. We have to find that spirit and put it down."

"Whoa there. You're not goin' with us." Dean said.

"The hell I'm not! This is my land. You two may be good hunters but there's a lot more than ghosts to watch out for in these woods. There are ravines, gullies, hidden caves and holes that were covered by last years leaf fall. You two couldn't find your way out of a wet paper bag on top of that mountain! I'm going and that's final." She stepped up to face Dean. Although a couple inches shorter she challenged him head on, poking him in the chest with a slender finger. "I protect what's mine. You're on my land, you're under my protection. I wouldn't want you two sulfur sniffers to wind up bear bait."

Dean looked at Sam and caught him barely suppressing the urge to roll with laughter. Brit looked at Dean and then Sam, Sam instantly burying the smile with a look of respect. "Get yourselves inside and get something to eat. We're leaving in an hour." Brit turned and walked up to her cabin, Kody keeping pace beside her clearly agitated figure. Sam rolled with laughter after the door banged shut and Dean pouted while rubbing at his chest with a hand. Sam laughed harder and Dean punched him in the arm. Sam jogged onto the porch and opened the door. Dean shoved his way though making Sam stumble in the process. Dean snorted a laugh and went to find Brit in the kitchen. She glared at Dean and handed Sam a plate heaped with scrambled eggs, sausage, toast and a bowl of homemade oatmeal. Dean's mouth watered and Brit stood there looking at him. His face fell and she smiled, handing him his plate and bowl heaped the same as Sam's. "That'll teach you." She said. She took her own plate and sat down with them on the third stool. Kody curled up at her feet.

Sam looked at the huge dog, taking a bite of his breakfast. "He's a good pup. How long have you had him?"

"Six years. I got him after I took over for my dad here. It gets lonely this far back in the woods. He also lets me know when something is around that shouldn't be."

They finished eating in silence and Sam and Dean followed Brit into the living room where she had a fully stocked backpack. "I'm gonna go get our gear, Sammy."

Sam nodded and waited for Dean to leave, shutting the door behind him. "Are you sure you want to go with us. It might be… weird to see that spirit."

"I've seen it Sam. It killed my Aunt. I didn't know how to kill it then. I'm hoping you do now."

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry. What happened?"

"I was with her. We were hiking last summer, and we were out after sunset. In the summer the breeze blows under the trees, even on the most unbearable days the evenings are so nice. We were on the trail and it came outta nowhere. My aunt pushed me away when she saw it and she drew it to her instead. She knocked me down behind a fallen tree. The fall winded me pretty bad. When my head stopped spinning I'd seen that she had apparently ran to the edge of a deeper ravine at the end of the trail and it appeared in front of her. I sat up in time to see it stab her with the bayonet on the end of the flintlock. It wouldn't have been fatal. It hit her high in the shoulder. She flinched and cried out and the spirit pulled the blade out of her and she staggered backwards when it pulled free. She fell to the bottom of the ravine. The fall broke her neck. I hoped I imagined this after I had nothing else happen, but now…" Brit's voice trailed off and she turned from Sam and stared out the window.

"God, Brit. I'm really sorry."

"I can see why you want to stop this thing then." Dean said from the doorway where he stood with the weapons pack at his feet and his favorite shotgun in his hand. Brit turned to look at Dean, a hard glint coming to her normally soft brown eyes.

"You're damn right I do."

"Let's go then."

Brit grabbed her pack and put it on her shoulders, reaching for her rifle. She took off out the door and the guys followed. She led the way to a black trail rig. It was a old Ford Bronco. A small four wheel drive with huge tires and a good six inch lift. It had a roll cage inside and racing seats with safety harnesses. Brit stored her rifle and pack in a steel box that was welded to the frame at the back of the impressive rig. Dean followed suit with the weapons bag and his shotgun. Dean looked skeptically at Brit as she made her way to the driver's seat of the vehicle.

She grinned. "I learned to drive in this rig. Trust me." Sam took shotgun with only a hard swallow to belie the fact that he was nervous about going up the sheer side of a mountain in the seriously lifted big black truck. Brit fastened her harness and the guys watched, soon following suit and making sure theirs were adjusted to fit snuggly. Brit picked up a two way radio and tapped the comm. button, sending a shrill beep out over the airwaves. "Mountain Climber to Sky Watch. You in?"

"Sky Watch here. What's goin' on Brit?"

"I'm going up the mountain with those guys I told you about."

"Good luck guys. Put that thing to rest so my wife can rest knowing our favorite niece is safe in the woods she won't give up on. Sky Watch on alert and out."

"Mountain Climber on the move." Brit replied and tapped the comm. button again. She fired a powerful engine that had a tone Dean had to marvel at. For a seventies something model Ford it sounded good. Brit hit a button on the dash and the vehicle gained another two inches of height and became more flexible as air was delivered to various shocks on the chassis of the truck.

She shifted the truck into first gear and circled the house from the lot. She led them to a trail and began to climb up the mountain. It was steep but the Bronco took it well. In several places Brit steered to put one tire or another up against huge boulders and proceeded to climb over them. The Bronco had heavy steel runners beneath it, protecting the body from impact on rocks. The truck made a metal to stone grinding sound and the rear tire climbed over the rock. The truck hit hard on the other side, air equalizing in the shocks that eased the impact. Sam looked over the edge of the windowless door and marveled.

"This thing has amazing articulation." He said over the noise of the engine. Brit grinned and yelled over the rumble of metal to rock.

"Eighty degrees. I designed it and had a friend build it. He normally only does custom Chevy work but he helped me out." Sam cast his eyes ahead and paled. The top was approaching and the angle changed drastically, appearing to jut out at the vehicle.

"Uh, Brit? You've done this before?" He asked with another hard swallow.

"Lotsa times. Hang on guys." Brit shifted gears and the truck gained momentum. It lurched forward and into the dip that started the protrusion of the mountain peak. The truck began crawling and Sam resisted the urge to lean forward, instead choosing to grip the edges of his seat tightly and close his eyes. The truck rumbled up over the peak and Brit applied the brakes, bringing it to a stop. She glanced wordlessly at Sam and then Dean and chuckled.

"You can open your eyes, guys. We're in one piece." Sam swallowed and undid his harness as Brit hit the button to lower the air shocks. He quickly exited the vehicle, Dean following closely behind breathing hard. She laughed outright at the Winchesters. "You two tackle everything imaginable and some beyond imagination and rock crawling scares you? Wait till I show you the jump trail for the four wheelers."

"I'll pass; thanks." Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam echoed. Sam looked around them at the forest. It amazed him. There were several trails cleared off, some wider and rutted where the ATVs frequented and others that were narrower and smoother, taken by the hikers. The trails branched off in all directions. Brit walked to the back of the rig and removed her rifle and pack. Dean grabbed the weapons pack and his shotgun. Sam remained empty handed, his shotgun and Beretta in the bag Dean carried.

"We've got some bones to find." Dean said as he and Sam began flanking Brit closely. Both hunters were on alert even though it was still only early afternoon.

"Brit, I've been wanting to ask you, I saw in the video the kids shot that the trail looked blocked by boulders. I checked a recent detailed topographic map that was only a couple years old. It didn't show any blockages. What happened?" Sam asked her. She stopped walking and turned to face him.

"The landowners at the top of the mountain just past my property line clear cut two summers ago. After winter, when everything thawed, the Braddock Run, a small stream that follows the road, flooded and washed boulders into the path."

Sam's face screwed up into a grimace and one of his hands shot to his temple.

Brit had glanced at Dean as a light came on for her. "Wait, you don't think…" She turned to look at Sam. "Sam?"

**A/N: Here we go! What's happening with Sam? Looks like the cliffie demon has me now. Catch the next chapter tomorrow night! Don't forget to review, I'll leave you cookies in my will!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here's another chapter for everyone still following this one. This is what you've all been waiting for, the start of the action and what's wrong with Sam. Thanks and enjoy! It gets better from here. BTW, what happens to Sammy in the end of this chapter happened to me and trust me it SUCKED!****  
**

**Chapter 4**

"Gaahhh." He cried out and shot the other hand up to press on his eyes. He ducked his head and turned from Brit as Dean rushed forward. He dropped the pack that had been slung over one shoulder and caught Sam as his legs gave out; lowering him gently instead of letting him crash to the leaf litter. Sam was breathing heavily, near gasping. He groaned and his hands fell away from his temples, head lolling on his shoulders as Dean moved to support him

"Oh my God. What's wrong with him?" Brit asked; kneeling down to help any way she could.

"Just give me a minute, Brit. Please." Dean moved to hold Sam's head against his chest. He lifted his face and looked at his pain-clenched eyes willing them to open. Sam flinched and his eyes snapped open, quickly gaining that hated stare. "Sammy, c'mon. Come back, man."

Sam saw Dean and then a flash of white split his skull. He saw nothing for a second then…

_Dean had the shotgun clenched in a bloody hand. A fire raged in the boulders nearby, the outline of a broken skeleton in a crevice rapidly blackening but still visible. He was shaking and blood leaked from a gash on his bicep that had split the fabric of his black jacket. He was sitting on the leaf strewn ground, backed up against the trunk of a tree. His gun was aimed at Brit, or rather the spirit that had her by the shoulder from behind. A flintlock rifle topped with a rusted looking Bayonet was placed against her throat. She was shaking from fear and the sharp blade drew a fine line of blood from her neck._

"_Shoot him." She said quietly. Dean looked behind the spirit to see Sam gain his footing from where he'd fallen when the spirit attacked him. He met Dean's eyes and nodded. Dean returned it, barely a visible movement but it was enough for Sam to pick up on it. Sam raised his own shotgun and fired. Brit gave a choking cry and the spirit howled and dispersed. A look of horror crossed Dean's features as Brit fell, blood pooling around her cut throat and gushing over the leaves that rested under and around her body. Steam rose from the escaping life-giving fluid as it rapidly cooled in the chilly April night._

Sam gave a choked scream as his eyes cleared rapidly. He began shaking horribly, his teeth chattering. "D-D-Dean."

"Easy, Sammy."

"'m c-cold." Brit quickly reached into her pack as she removed it from her shoulders. She pulled out an emergency blanket and took it out of its waterproof bag. She spread it over Sam and Dean and Dean held Sam close, trying to get some heat to his brother.

"What'd you see?"

"See? What do you mean what did he see?"

"Sam has visions. He's psychic. It takes a lot outta him. Just give him time and he'll explain." Dean said. Brit reached back into her bag when she saw Sam swallow hard and removed a bottle of Gatorade. Sam was still breathing heavily and shaking while sweating. She was concerned, with the chill in the early spring air, about his health. Dean took it from her and cracked the seal, giving Sam a sip. He swallowed and took another.

"T-t-thanksss." Sam said around a shiver. Dean held him closer. Sam's chills began to subside and he seemed to regain his bearings a few minutes later. Dean helped Sam sit upright and moved out from behind him, still keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"I'm okay now."

"What did you see, Sam?" Dean asked.

"The spirit. It attacked us. The vision… it's going to happen tonight." Sam stood shakily and Dean kept that hand on him, helping him gain his center. "Thanks, Brit." He said as he handed the blanket back to her. No one saw the black speck that clung to Sam's jacket near his waist. She folded it and returned it to the bag she'd pulled it from. As she turned to put it in her pack Sam looked at Dean and mouthed- _I need to talk to you._ Sam lurched off into a clearing just off the trail and Dean followed hastily, concerned with the fact that Sam didn't want Brit to know what he'd seen.

"What's goin' on with you, Sammy?"

Sam whirled. "Dean, I saw her die. I saw you get hurt and I saw her get her throat cut by the spirit. It had a flintlock with a bayonet tip. It used it to cut her throat when I shot it. You were on the ground against a tree and bleeding. I felt the damn thing hit me in the vision and when I stood up I shot the bastard. It dispersed, but not before it cut her throat. We have to get her outta here. This is goin' to happen _tonight._ We need to find a new way to stop this thing. We can't let her get killed and I don't want you hurt."

"I'm not leaving if that's what you think." Brit said from where she'd walked up soundlessly behind Sam. He jumped and turned.

"Brit…"

"No Sam. That thing is killing people. It. Killed. My. Aunt. I'm not sitting this out."

"Then we need to go back to your place, do more research, and try to find a way to kill this thing for good."

"I thought we were going to find the body. I thought you could kill it somehow that way."

"We burned the remains and it still attacked. I'm thinking the flooding disturbed the spirit by moving the remains. Out here," Sam gestured, opening his arms wide, "it's going to be impossible to find all the remains and if we miss something, _anything_, it's not going to stop."

"Fine. But this thing is going to be stopped. And I'm _not_ staying home."

"Okay. We just need to find a way to protect you better then."

Brit clapped Sam on the shoulder. "You will." The three of them walked back to where Dean had dropped his pack in order to help Sam. He grabbed the bag was about to sling one strap over his shoulder when Sam held out his hand. Dean reached in and removed Sam's shotgun, handing it to him. Sam quickly opened the breech and checked the rock salt rounds. Satisfied, he nodded to Dean and the three of them walked back the way they had come to Brit's trail rig. Dean led the way and Sam brought up the rear, on high alert as he protected Brit. The sun was starting its descent over the horizon as they made it back to the Ford. They stowed the weapons and, getting up into the vehicle, Brit got them uneventfully back to the bottom of the mountain and the house. She parked the rig next to the Impala.

"Brit, you should go inside. Dean will come with you to make sure you're protected."

"I know about salt. I just haven't used it in a long time."

"You're doin' it tonight." Dean said as he opened the trunk of the Impala and removed a can of rock salt and some cat's eye shells.

"Hey, man, I'm gonna call Bobby, see if he has any ideas on how we can kill this thing." Sam said, absently scratching his side. "Then I'm gonna do some more research."

"Alright Sammy. I'll be there as soon as I lay down some salt lines."

"I'll make you guys some sandwiches you can take with you Dean." Brit said as she moved up her porch and let Kody inside. Dean followed her in, putting down a line of salt at the front door. He was pleased that the smooth wooden floor allowed the salt to lay in a thick, even line. He then put a cat's eye shell on the table near the door for added protection. He followed Brit into the kitchen and started there, as she made sandwiches, salting doors and windows; anything with outside exposure.

Sam went in the small cabin and pulled his cell phone from the bag on his bed. As he straightened up he felt a sharp sting in his right side. He smacked at his side with his hand, wondering if mosquitoes were out already. _I hate camping._ He thought. He scratched at his side and sat down in front of his laptop. He called Bobby, who answered on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey Bobby, its Sam."

"Sam, how'd the hunt go?"

"It didn't. There's a problem I need your help with. We went up on the mountain and I had a vision."

"What about?" Bobby asked, not sounding surprised.

"We tried to find the remains and did, so we burned them. The spirit didn't stop. It attacked us and hurt Dean. Dean was gonna shoot the fugly bastard but it grabbed Brit. I shot it and it dispersed, but not before it killed her. Slit her throat with its bayonet. We got off the mountain before it could attack her. Dean's laying down salt lines now. Any ideas?" Sam cleared a throat that had suddenly become scratchy. _I hope I'm not catching a cold._ He thought bemusedly.

"Did you get anything else from the vision? See any wounds on the ghost? What about your research? Find out who he was?"

Sam found himself having to concentrate. He put a hand up to his temple as it gave a sharp throb and he gasped as a spasm caught the muscles of his abdomen. "Uh, yeah. His name was Jonathan Murphy. He led a mutiny of sorts against General Braddock, trying to get him to let the soldiers rest. Braddock charged him with treason and …. Ahh… killed him with his own bayonet. I didn't…" Sam gasped again, his vision going blurry as he looked at his computer screen. "Didn't see any wounds, but the spirit had gained enough form to hold onto Brit while it killed her."

"Sam, are you okay?" Sweat beaded on Sam's forehead as chills suddenly racked his frame.

"Uh, not sure Bobby. I'll call you back." Sam shut off his phone and dropped it, having trouble breathing. His throat felt like it was closing off and he began to wheeze. He stood from the chair and lifted his shirt. Looking at his right side he saw a large blotch of nearly purple skin. It was very swollen and yellow tinged blood leaked in droplets from two tiny puncture wounds located closely side by side in the middle of the wound. Slightly black looking streaks shot out from around the discolored flesh and followed his veins. Another muscle spasm had him clutching at his stomach and dropping to his knees as he battled nausea to draw in air. "Guh-huuuuhhh." Sam drew a wheezing breath and fought his way back to his feet. "D-dean." He stammered. Sam managed two more steps in his rapidly spinning room before his legs gave out again. He fell, unmoving; his body curled up fetal position, effectively blocking the door. . He cracked his head off the table by the door as he went down, opening a gash about an inch long above his left eyebrow. Darkness claimed him before he hit the floor.

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"Here are your sandwiches, Dean." Brit said as she handed him two ham and cheese subs. "Hey, thanks for helping me feel safe tonight." She leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. He smiled.

"I'll see you in the morning with some answers to this. I promise." Dean turned and left. She followed him through the living room and sat down on the couch. Kody immediately came to lie at her feet. She stroked the dog's fur between his ears as he watched Dean walk out the front door.

Dean walked down the short slope to the cabin he shared with Sam. He shifted the sandwiches to his left hand and tried the door with his right. The door wouldn't open even though the knob turned. "Sammy, open the door." Dean listened for sounds of him coming to the door. He heard nothing, except a barely audible high pitched sound. "Sammy? Open up or I'll eat your sandwich." Again nothing. Dean gave another push and the door opened about three inches. Enough for him to see a mop of dark hair on the floor and hear a wheezing breath. "Sammy!" Dean shouted. "Sam, wake up. You need to move away from the door." No movement aside from another tremor and wheeze. Dean fought against the bile rising in his throat at thoughts of something wrong with his baby brother. He also rebelled against the adrenaline that began to course through his body. He pushed on the door with steady pressure, not wanting to injure Sam, but needing desperately to get through the only entrance to the room that contained his only remaining, obviously injured family member.

Dean dropped the sandwiches and used both hands to push against the door, crouching slightly to put the bulk of the pressure low to counteract Sam's weight against it. Sam was lying on the rug at the entrance to the cabin and with Dean's steady push the rug and Sam began to slide across the wooden floor. After what seemed like hours Dean finally had enough of an opening to squeeze through. He quickly stepped over his brother and dropped to his knees, leaving the door open.

Sam faced him, eyes closed. His arms were wrapped tightly about his abdomen and, along with the wheeze, that signaled at least he was still breathing; Sam was trembling, near seizing. A look of pain crossed his features and caused lines around his closed eyes. He moaned and instinctively curled in on himself as if warding off cramps.

"Sammy? Sam, hey." Dean reached out to touch Sam and recoiled before ever making contact. Heat was radiating off Sam like he was a furnace. Sweat streaked his face and he moaned again, his body shaking with a tremor. "Oh god." Dean said, running a hand over his mouth in shock at the sight of his brother. He took in Sam's pale, fever spotted cheeks and the blue tinge around his lips. Sam gave another wheeze and that sound spurred Dean into action. Dean shifted Sam so that he lay on his back and tipped open his airway. Dean quickly pulled his small flashlight from his jacket pocket, turned it on, opened Sam's mouth and looked inside. Sam had spots, looking like hives, around the inside of his throat. It was badly swollen, nearly constricted shut. Dean gasped at the sight and Sam began choking at the same time. Dean quickly changed Sam's position and pulled him nearly upright against his shoulder. Sam gave another cough and moaned, pulling in air around a wheeze. Dean made up his mind. "You hang on Sammy. I'm taking you to Brit."

Dean supported Sam's head, allowing it to rest against his shoulder. He wrapped one strong arm around Sam's back after putting one of Sam's own loosely around his shoulders. Dean ducked his head and Sam's arm flopped limply against the back of Dean's neck. Dean quickly reached for Sam's knees and scooped him up. Sam moaned but didn't awaken as the shift in positions caused him pain. "Sorry Sammy, but all this sweat and you're still damn heavy." Dean gave a grunt and stood, his leg muscles straining visibly beneath his black jeans. He shouldered the door the rest of the way open, careful of Sam's bleeding head, and made the way up the hill to Brit's house.

Dean was breathing hard by the time he walked up the hill with Sam's unresponsive weight in his arms. "BBRRRRRIIIIIIIIT!" He screamed, stopping at the bottom of the covered porch. He heard Kody bark loudly and running footsteps from inside. The door was flung open and Brit stood on the porch, rifle in hand, dressed in her jeans and a black tank top. The wooden screen door banged shut behind her as she dropped the rifle to her side and barreled down the porch steps.

"Oh my God! What the hell happened?"

"I dunno." Dean near panted. "He's sick."

"Let's get him inside." Brit went up on the porch and held the screen door wide for Dean. "Put him on my bed. We need to find out what made him sick. Do you think it was the vision?"

"No. They've never done this to him before." Dean panted as he put Sam down on the bed. Sam's head tossed and he tried to curl up on himself again. Brit restrained him. Sam now had large blotches of hives on the underside of his arms and the soft tissue of his neck.

"Oh god. I've seen this before." Brit quickly began moving his clothes, exposing various body parts. She discovered more hives on Sam's shoulders. "We need to get these clothes off him, find the bite." She said urgently.

"Bite, what bite?" Dean queried, worry streaking through him at the sight of the awful marks on Sam's skin.

"Spider. Dean, I need you to do something if you want to help Sam."

"Name it. Our med kit is in the trunk."

"I need you to go back to the cabin. Look for a spider around where Sam might have walked, or sat. I assume he has a laptop at the desk. Check the chair and the floor. He may have killed it when it bit him and not realized what it was."

"What kind of spider am I looking for?"

"Judging by Sam's reaction, I'd say a Northern Black Widow. The bites themselves are rarely fatal; it's the reaction people have that kills them. You have to hurry; I need to know for sure." Dean stood and raced from the room. Brit heard the door slam and caught a glimpse of Dean's form racing at breakneck speeds down the small slope to the cabin. She turned back to Sam and quickly unbuttoned his shirt. Pulling it off, she noticed two tiny drops of yellowed blood on his white t-shirt. She felt the heat before she touched his side and knew the bite lay beneath and it was bad. She raced into her bathroom and withdrew her med kit from the cabinet beneath the sink. She went back to him, and removing sharp scissors from the kit, she cut his shirt away. She gasped.

**A/N: Uh-oh(as my baby nephew says) What's going on now? How bad is Sammy? Find out tomorrow! Drop me a line and let me know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

** A/N: Due to a request from a great friend I've decided to post another chapter today. The last two will go up tomorrow. Here's another chapter for all the great people sticking with me here. Lots of angst guaranteed. Check it out and enjoy!  
**

**Chapter 5**

Dean barreled through the open door of the cabin and skidded to a reckless halt on the rug that had been kicked up when he'd pushed Sam from the doorway. Dean walked around the room, looking over the pristine, light colored-_thank god_- wood floors for signs of the black spider. Dean checked around the booted up laptop and the chair, looking under the desk for signs of it should it still be alive. Nothing. He checked the chair itself and down between the leather arms and cushion.

"Damnit!" Dean remembered Sam's bag being on his bed. He moved it, ripping the clothes out of it and putting them on top of his pillow, checking each piece and the bag for the spider. He started to rip the covers from the neatly made bed and then stopped as the air from the swirling sheets slid something along the floor that caught his eye. He crouched down. It was the spider, dead. Its shiny black body was laying belly up, long legs curled over the abdomen with the distinctive blood red hourglass pattern. Dean fought off the urge to be sick at what something less than an inch long could put his brother through. He quickly grabbed a sheet of paper from the desk near the laptop and scooped the spider into it. Carefully bunching the paper into a loose ball around the spider's corpse he took off again at a dead run back to Brit and his sick brother. Kody was on the porch and was startled by Dean's headlong flight around the corner. He stood quickly and gave a growl. Dean froze in his tracks, ready to kill the dog if it stood between him and Sam. A piercing whistle from the house turned the dog and he settled immediately. Dean brushed by him and went inside, the dog slipping in before the door closed.

"Brit, you're right, its dead." Dean said as he came into the bedroom at the back of the house. He found Brit wrestling with Sam as he lay seizing on the bed. She had a red mark on her cheek where it looked like Sam had clocked her. Dean dropped the paper beside her and circled the bed, quickly taking Sam from her arms. "It's in the paper by your knee." He said as he struggled to restrain his fiercely shaking baby brother. Sam was gasping, sweat pouring off him. "Easy Sammy. God, calm down. I gotcha, I gotcha, it's okay, you're okay." He murmured nonsense to his unconscious, pain riddled brother, stroking back sweat sopping hair. Brit quickly unfolded the ball of paper and looked at the spider. Dean held Sam while he removed the cut away t-shirt that was still on Sam's muscular arms.

"I can help him here."

"How?"

"I have anti-venom. This is the same damn kind that got me last year. I'll give him a dose and then we need to draw that poison out. It's not gonna be easy on him Dean. He's going to be out of it for a while."

Dean caught sight of the ugly patch of swollen purple skin on his brother's muscular abdomen and cringed. He met Brit's eyes and said, "Do it."

Brit pulled a small cylindrical device from the med kit. It had a green plunger on top and a white tube made up the body. She put it to Sam's thigh against his jeans and depressed the plunger. The thing Dean now recognized as a type of Epipen, gave a small click as the dose was given to Sam and she removed it, tossing it in the trash by her bed. Dean held Sam still and felt the tremors coursing through his body ease slightly as the drug started taking effect. He looked at Brit to see tears glistening in her soft brown eyes.

"What is it?" He asked quietly.

"Now we have to get the venom out. That's the part that is going to hurt him." She reached for the kit and pulled a translucent red plastic bag from the metal box. Inside was a scalpel and a syringe looking pump. An anti-venom pump. Dean watched as her shaking hands pulled both tools from the bag. She removed the clear plastic guard from the scalpel and doused it in the alcohol bottle that she'd removed from the kit.

Dean took it from her hands, his lingering over hers. "It's okay, I'll do it." She nodded and handed the pump to him. She prepared a gauze sponge with antiseptic to wash Sam's wound. Dean made a tiny incision in Sam's abdomen that covered the two seeping bite marks. It was small enough it wouldn't need stitches.Sam moaned as his skin parted beneath the sharp blade. Dean watched as yellowed blood coated the blade and Sam's side. Brit wiped it away and got another sponge, also dousing it with antiseptic as she held it over the trash can. Dean put the pump to the small cut and applied pressure. The sensors in the automatic pump kicked in and sounded like a tiny vacuum as it fastened on to Sam's skin. It created a halo of white as the suction cup pulled at Sam's bruised, swollen skin. Dean watched in horrified fascination as the clear tube at the bottom filled with the awful looking yellowed, toxin attacked blood.

"Less than a minute Dean. That's all you need. Once the blood looks normal you can take it off." Brit said quietly. Sam's tremors had faded to near gone. He was still feverish but appeared to be resting, the drug working to save his life. Dean watched and a few seconds later red blood began being sucked into the small clear vial. He tipped the pump to the side and it began to draw air, popping loose from Sam's side. Brit moved in and cleaned the wound, putting antibiotic cream on it; she covered it with a band-aid and took the pump from Dean's hands. She moved away, restocking the med kit from packages under her sink. She drained and disinfected the pump and put it away, returning it to its proper place and putting the med kit back under the sink. She grabbed the antique porcelain basin and pitcher off the shelf in the bathroom and filled the pitcher with cool water. She dropped a washcloth in the bowl and carried both to Sam's side, putting the bowl on the nightstand. She poured water in the bowl over the washcloth and brushed Sam's hair out of his closed eyes. Dean was watching Sam, his hands shaking at how close he'd come to losing his brother, when Brit pulled a thin blue cover up to Sam's waist.

Brit wiped her hands on her jeans and touched Dean's shoulder. "He'll be okay. Why don't you clean him up some and relax here?" She gave him a squeeze and walked out of the room. Kody came in as Brit left and lay down at Dean's feet where he sat beside Sam on the bed. Dean shook himself and looked at the dog.

"You know I'd have shot your ass if you kept me from my brother." Kody gave an unconcerned yawn and put his head on his large front paws. "Stupid mutt." Dean said with a slight smile on his face. He reached for the cloth in the basin and squeezed the excess water from it. He bathed Sam's face and washed blood and sweat from his features and hair, making sure the cut received attention. It was minor and wouldn't need stitches. Putting a hand to Sam's pale cheek he noticed the fever going down. He sighed in relief. "That's it Sammy. You'll be okay." Sam sighed and turned his head into Dean's hand. Dean shifted on the bed and scooted up next to the headboard. He pulled Sam into his arms slightly and adjusted the cover around him. Sam shifted on the bed and turned his face into Dean's arm. Dean leaned his head back against the pine headboard and began to doze, knowing Sam was safe.

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Brit came into the room early the next afternoon and found Dean sleeping, half sitting up on the bed next to Sam. She walked over to him and touched his shoulder. He startled awake. "Sammy?"

"Sorry. He's fine. Look." Dean looked at Sam to find him still sleeping, His fever was gone and his color much better.

"Thank God." Dean whispered, brushing the long hair out of Sam's eyes. Sam had turned over in his sleep and buried a hand up under the pillow. He stood and stretched, earning several cracks from his back and neck. He groaned.

"C'mon. Coffee's on. Let him sleep." They walked down the hall through the living room to the kitchen and Dean sat down on one of the high-backed stools, running a hand through his short cropped hair.

"Brit, I'm sorry."

She stared at him. "For what?"

"Sam. I didn't know what was wrong. I wasn't sure how to help him. I ruined your night."

"You listen to me Dean Winchester. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm just glad he's going to be okay and he is all that matters. Now, it's too late for breakfast. Do you feel like some lunch? I'm imagining that you didn't get to eat those sandwiches last night seeing as you'd just left when you came back with Sam."

"No. I kinda dropped them when I realized something was wrong. I couldn't get in the door because he was on the floor against it. I needed both hands to push it open."

"It's okay. I'll make you something. You want anything special?"

"Nah. Anything'll work. That's the thing about life on the road. You can't be picky."

"Why do you do it Dean? My granddad and dad were hunters. Mom didn't seem to mind too much until Dad mentioned wanting to train me. But they were always gone. Granted Dad didn't take anything on that he didn't know he could take, because he didn't want to risk never coming home to me and mom again, but still…. he was always exhausted. He'd come home so many times and the things he'd seen… he'd just hold me close and cry. Why do you put yourselves through that?"

"Honestly?" Dean looked from the table top to Brit. He swallowed, his down-turned mouth and pursed lips making a dimple show in his cheek. "Because of Sam and my mom. They had so much taken from them. Mom was twenty nine when she died. Sammy, other than pictures and the time he saw her spirit, doesn't even know what she looks like. I can't stand the thought of someone else going through that kinda hell. If I can stop it, I do. It's worth living this life if I can save people, keep families together. It is."

Brit fell silent and soon had a turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomato in front of Dean. She took a stool next to Dean and watched him briefly as he bit into the sandwich.

"Do I get one?" Came a voice from the doorway. Dean turned and nearly choked on his mouthful of food. Sam stood in the doorway, leaning wearily against the frame. He had his gray flannel on, unbuttoned, with nothing beneath it. Patches of raised and swollen skin were visible against the paleness of his usually tan skin. He looked shaky and drawn, pain lines still visible around his eyes and mouth. Dean quickly jumped from the stool and grabbed Sam as he stepped forward, using his strength to steady his wobbly brother. "What happened?" Sam asked as he leaned on his brother, not liking how weak he felt.

"Damnit Sammy, you should still be sleeping. You got bit by a spider and damn near died. "

"I'm hungry."

Dean smiled and clapped a hand to Sam's shoulder as he helped him sit on the third stool. "Do you think you can make another sandwich?"

"Glad to." Brit said turning to her refrigerator.

Sam ate part of the sandwich Brit made him and was exhausted by the time he was finished. He began weaving on the high backed stool, and put his elbow on the table, absently massaging his temple. Dean watched him carefully and saw his eyes begin drooping. He stood and pulled Sam upright, looping one of his arms around his neck. Dean used one hand to hold the limp appendage in place and the other he wrapped around Sam's waist. Supporting his brother Dean looked at Brit and grinned. "Looks like somebody needs a nap. C'mon Sammy, back to bed."

"No Dean. I… Ahh!" Sam's hand that had been hanging at his side shot to his head again. Dean stopped the walk to the bedroom and held his brother steady. Sam's chin fell to his chest and his eyes squeezed shut. His knuckles turned white as he pressed harder against his temple with a closed fist. Sam's legs gave out just as Dean helped him lurch to the couch. Dean eased him down and crouched in front of him.

"Sammy?" Sam's eyes opened and lost focus. "Sam!" Dean held him by both shoulders now and resisted the urge to shake him out of the damn vision. _He's too weak for this shit._ Brit had followed them into the living room when Sam had cried out. Now she was on the other side of Sam running her hand over his arm.

"What can I do to help?"

"He has to come out of it on his own. Damnit, he's too weak for this." Dean said, voicing his earlier thoughts.

_Dean was on his back at the base of a tree. Fire flickered brightly off to his left. His arm and hand were bloody, a gash showing on his jacket, blood shining black in the moonlight. His hand was slipping on the trigger grip of the shotgun that he held pointed at the spirit that had Brit by the shoulder. Its rusted bayonet held against her throat cut a fine line across her neck as she trembled. A dog's body lay off to the side, bloody in the moonlight._

"_Shoot him." She said, shaking with fear._

_Sam came up from behind and pointed his own shotgun at the spirit's back. Dean gave the signal and Sam, instead of firing, yelled out. "Hey!" The spirit turned, holding Brit in front of it. The blade dug further into her neck briefly before the spirit pulled it across her throat. She gurgled and fell to the leaf litter. Brit's body falling away revealed a grisly wound over the spirit's heart. Made with its own weapon. "NO!" Sam cried out, firing his gun. The spirit howled and dispersed only to reappear directly in front of Dean and run him through. Dean screamed in agony as he looked at his chest, a gaping wound there and a rusty blade that flickered in stark relief under the moonlight as the spirit flickered. Dean looked at Sam, blood leaking from his mouth as his eyes slid closed. He slumped at the base of the tree and that galvanized Sam into motion. _

_He roared and lunged at the spirit, firing again as he advanced on the spirit. It screamed and disappeared, reappearing directly in front of Sam. It shoved the blade tipped rifle forward and impaled Sam as he attempted to tackle the semisolid spirit. Sam gasped, looking down startled, as the blade flickered in and out where just the hilt was visible protruding from his stomach. The spirit pulled back on the flintlock and the blade pulled free, blood coated and flickering in the moonlight with the spirit. Sam fell to his knees, blood pumping through the hands that he'd clasped over the wound sometime. He choked, blood leaking from his mouth, and fell forward, motionless. Blood pooled under his body as the spirit flickered out of sight._

Sam gasped and fell back against the couch, eyes rolling back into his head. Dean touched him, shocked at how warm he felt. Sam's breathing was too shallow and his pulse way too fast. "Damn it. Help me get him back to the bedroom. He's sick again." Brit quickly stood and helped Dean maneuver Sam into a standing position. He started to fall forward, sliding to the floor, but Brit and Dean acted quickly. Brit slid herself under one of Sam's arms and held it around her neck as his head lolled onto her shoulder, bumping her bruised cheek. Dean took Sam's other arm and wrapped one of his around Sam's waist. They half dragged him to the bedroom, but soon had him settled on the bed again. Sam shifted restlessly and cried out a weak "No!" Dean put a hand to Sam's warm cheek and whispered soothingly. Sam seemed to settle some and then he gave another cry, stronger this time as he thrashed on the bed. His shirt fell open to reveal bruising on his abdomen around both the bandage covered bite mark and a previously unmarred area. Dean gaped, touching the new bruising. "What the hell?"

"NOOO!" Sam cried out, his body surging upwards as he bolted upright on the bed. Dean arched back from his close position to Sam and caught his brother in his arms. Sam's eyes were darting wildly about and he focused on nothing. He fought, crying out every few seconds, and tried to break free of Dean's strong arms.

"Sam, STOP! Stop, Damnit. It's okay! Sammy, please. Please man, it's okay. STOP SAM, STOP!" Dean shouted as Sam still fought. Sam shook, his eyes still going wild, arms thrashing as if still caught in the waking nightmare that was one of his visions. He stiffened abruptly and fell forward into Dean's arms, breathing raggedly. Dean pulled him in and held him close as he trembled, muttering soft, meaningless words to his distraught brother. "Shh, you're out of it now. It's okay. It's over, Sammy, I'm here." Dean stroked back Sam's sweat drenched hair and held his head against his shoulder. Sam gave a weak cough and settled, slumping slightly in Dean's arms. Dean went to lay him back on the bed but as he moved he felt something dampen his shirt where Sam's head had been. _Oh, damn. I knew I should've done something with that cut. He must've busted it back open fighting me._ Dean laid Sam's head back on the pillow.

"Sammy!"

**A/N: I know, I know. I'm so mean leaving you all like this but I simply can't help myself. Someone call the guys to exorcise the cliffie demon! Next update coming tomorrow. See you then.**


	6. Chapter 6

** A/N: Here's another one. Hope you're on the edge of your seats wondering what's up with Sammy. Enjoy and I hope to hear from you at the end of the chapter!  
**

**Chapter 6**

"Sammy!" Sam's head rolled weakly on the bed, his eyes closed, as Dean laid him back. Dean's heart jumped to his throat at the sight of blood coming from his mouth.

Brit, who had been quiet while Sam was under the control of the vision, now cried out. "Sam, oh God!" Sam gave another choking cough and Dean quickly reached for him, turning him so that he lay on his side. Blood leaked from the corner of Sam's mouth, staining Brit's pale green pillowcase. Dean pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and held it to the side of Sam's mouth as he coughed again, more blood leaked into the small square of fabric as Dean looked on. This time though it was more pink than red, mixed with Sam's clear saliva. Brit had the phone in her hands, preparing to dial 9-1-1 and praying they could get all the way back to the house before Sam bled to death from who-knows-what that seemed to be attacking him in his vision.

"Wait Brit. I think its stopping. It's not the bright red it was a minute ago." Dean wiped Sam's mouth with a clean corner of the handkerchief and breathed a sigh. "It stopped." Dean opened Sam's mouth slightly and saw the cause of the worry. Sam had bitten the inside of his cheek. It was bad but had stopped bleeding. "Sam just bit his cheek." Dean ducked his head and heaved another sigh as he ran a hand through his spiky hair and down the back of his neck. He ripped the hand from the back of his neck, sending his amulet swinging, as he stood pushing his hands off his thighs. "DAMNIT!" He growled, turning rapidly and clenching both fists with the desire to punch the wall. He fought the urge and looked at the textured white ceiling. "I hate it when he gets these damn visions! They take so damn much outta him. He goes so far away from me…" The anger seeped out of Dean visibly as he slumped back down to sit on the edge of the bed. He rested his elbows on his thighs and looked at Brit, tears forming at the edges of the green orbs that met her brown ones. "Some day I'm not going to get him back. It's gonna take him from me and I'm not gonna get him back."

"Dean, he's strong. Give him time. He'll get control of these things." Brit said as she stepped close to Dean and put a soothing hand on his shoulder. She gasped as he pulled her quickly in for a hug. He wrapped his arms around her middle and she stilled before she noticed Dean was shaking badly. She raised her other hand, and running them over his muscular back in soothing circles she bent low and kissed his temple. "You're not going to lose him. He won't let you lose him." She whispered near his ear. Dean pulled out of her arms and turned back to Sam, as Brit stepped back. He watched his brother for a minute before standing and running from the room.

"DEAN!" Brit shouted after him. She turned and followed. Kody was on his heels as he took off at a dead run for the Impala. Brit ran after him but was too late. He had the trunk closed and, shotgun in hand, bolted for one of the bigger four wheelers. He fired the engine and took off across the yard, banging through the gears on the automatic bike and kicking up grass in dual tracks as he made for the trail up the mountain. Kody followed Dean as fast as the German shepherd mix could run. Brit turned and ran inside to get Sam on his feet. The sun was setting and she was terrified for Dean's life. She ran through the house and into the bedroom where Sam still lay unmoving on the bed. She slid to her knees and to a halt beside him. She reached out and brushed the hair from his eyes. "Sam? Sam, I need you to wake up. You have to wake up. Dean's in trouble, Sam. Sam, please I need you to hear me. Dean needs you. He went after it…the spirit. He went after it. He's gonna need you." She said as she stroked his face repeatedly. She shook his arm. "Sam Winchester, your brother thinks he's losing you to these visions and he's gone off half mad trying to take out some damn ghost that has something to do with you being like this. Damn it Sam, he's going to get himself killed because he loves you. Do you want that?" She shook him and rubbed her knuckles over his sternum, bruising him, but she didn't care. If he didn't wake up he was going to lose Dean and not even know it. "Sam?" She choked back a sob when she got no response from the youngest Winchester.

Brit stood. She ran from the room and, grabbing her rifle, she bolted for the front door. She sprinted to her trail rig and fired the engine, putting her rifle on the seat beside her. The sun was down so she hit the lights. The lights on the cab and push bar on the front of the rig lit up her surroundings like noon in the summer. She hit the com button on her two way radio. "Uncle Jerry?"

"Brit? What's wrong?" Came a voice over the airwaves.

"Dean's up on the mountain alone, going after that damn spirit. He took one of the bikes. I'm in the rig. Can you get me his GPS location?"

"Sure girl. Hang on." Brit fired the engine and backed out of the lot heading for the trail. She heard the static of the radio when she got to the base of the trail and stopped . "Brit?"

"Yeah?"

"He's at the top of the mountain, right near where the boulders washed into the Braddock Road."

"Damn. I'm not sure I can get to him in time. I'm going to take one of the bikes. Keep him lo-jacked, Uncle. I've got my radio." Brit took the radio and rushed to one of the high performance bikes. Her own. Tucking her rifle in the boot, she fired the engine, turned on the headlights and sped up the side of the mountain.

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Sam stirred on the bed. Something was urgently telling him to surface from the layers that enveloped him, trying to keep him away from the living world. Pain assaulted him and the darkness beckoned but his stomach protested, that cement like weight telling him something was about to go very, very wrong. "Dean?" he called out as strongly as his voice would allow. "Brit?" Receiving no response from them, his fear of the worst escalated, his vision coming to the forefront of his mind. He rolled to the edge of the bed and pushed himself upright. His vision swam and his head began its incessant throbbing, letting him know that it was one of his more dominating visions. He fought to gain his equilibrium as he lurched to his feet. Using the walls and furniture for support he made his way out onto the front porch to find it dark. He heard the high whine of a four wheeler headed up the mountain. "BRIT!" he called out. He knew she couldn't hear him. The pit in his stomach got deeper as he realized that another bike was gone and that she was following Dean up the mountain at breakneck speeds. The trail rig was parked at the foot of the trail, its headlights still on. _Dean is already up there. He's going after the spirit alone. NO! Dean, NO!_

Sam stumbled down off the porch, his breath coming in gasps as worry choked him more effectively than the reaction to the spider's venom. "I'm coming Dean. Don't you let that damn thing get you." Sam urged himself forward before something dawned on him. _Of course. The woman in white. She had another weakness._ Sam's vision flashed through his mind. The wound standing out on the soldier's chest in stark relief even as it flickered in and out of focus. "Son of a bitch!" Sam said. Given strength by what he now knew, he rushed to the trunk of the Impala and used his key to open it. He held up the false bottom that housed their weapons with one hand while the other ransacked the trunk. He finally came up with what he wanted. A smile played about his lips as he knew he could now save both Brit and Dean.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Dean topped the mountain on the powerful four wheeler and raced down the path that they had taken yesterday. He ground to a stop, kicking up dirt and leaf litter as he realized this was where Sam had his vision showing the attack. This is where the spirit would be. Dean climbed off the bike after shifting it into neutral and killing the engine. The big dog crashed onto the trail head and came to his side.

"**COME ON** **OUT AND FACE ME YOU SONOFABITCH!!" **Dean bellowed into the darkness. Dean turned in all directions, shotgun at the ready. He had just turned to his left when Kody let out a growl and he felt a presence behind him. He turned but not quick enough. The spirit had materialized behind him and hit him across the back with the flintlock, knocking him to the ground. Dean rolled to his feet quickly, dodging the lethal, rusty bayonet. The spirit grinned at him, showing yellowed teeth, and Dean noticed a gaping wound where his heart had been as a human. Dean raised his gun to have the spirit leer at him. It flickered out of sight. "Sonofabitch." Dean said, wondering if maybe he'd just gotten in over his head. The spirit materialized again, this time swinging his rifle butt first at Dean. It hit his arm and dislodged the salt gun from his hand. It went skittering across the ground, kicking up leaves as it slid. Dean turned from the spirit and made a mad dash to the gun. He dropped to the ground and rolled by the shotgun, picking it up easily as his dad had taught him to do, rolling again to his feet. He aimed but the spirit had flickered out again. It flickered in again, bringing the bayonet down on Dean's bicep, splitting jacket and skin.

"Gaahhhh! Arrrrrghhhh. Oh you bastard!" Dean cried as he clutched at his bloody arm with his hand. He pulled it away as the spirit advanced. The dog came to stand in front of him. Kody lowered his head, fur standing on end down his spine as he let out a menacing growl. Dean gripped his gun and squeezed, his bloody fingers slipping from the grip and the trigger. A rifle went off behind the spirit, rock salt making it disperse with a howl. The salt pelted Dean, but after having passed through a semisolid spirit it had lost its power. Brit stood behind the spirit, standing on her bike with one knee on the seat. She had fired even as she'd hit the foot brake on the bike and stood. Now she lowered the still smoking rifle and ran to Dean's side.

"Dean are you okay?" She helped him stand and he applied pressure to the wound.

"Bastard cut me with the bayonet. Sammy's vision. Brit, damn it, why the hell did you follow me?"

"Because your head's obviously not in the right place. In the woods, you lose it you die. That's the way it works." She pulled a handkerchief from her back pocket and tied the clean material around Dean's bicep, effectively slowing his blood loss. "We have to find the remains." She said.

He followed her lead, realizing his mistake at rushing headlong into this. He also knew she was now in the very danger Sam's vision showed because of him, not because of the spirit. "Yeah, okay. I figured it should be around here. This is the only place where anything has happened along the whole road right?"

"Yeah."

"This is also the only place where the flooding did any damage?" Brit nodded. "Then the remains are here. We just have to find the damn bones." Dean and Brit started looking, Brit pulling her ever present flashlight from her pocket. Dean looked at her, surprised, even as he followed suit. She shined the flashlight into a crevice between two of the recently displaced boulders.

"I got it Dean." She told him, just a few feet away from where he'd just surfaced with a bone in his hand, a skeletal arm from the elbow down, lacking two fingertips.

"Damn thing's all over the place in these boulders. How the hell are we gonna burn it?"

"I have an idea." Brit handed Dean her rifle and light and made her way back to her bike parked at the top of the trail. She pushed the four wheeler to where the majority of the skeleton rested between the two boulders and pushed it until the front rack hit the surface of the rock. She took the arm bone from Dean and threw it into the crevice. Brit pulled a knife from her pocket and cut the rubber gas line of her bike. Gasoline spewed from the severed hose and coated the rocks and the bones. Dean took several rock salt shells from his pocket and tore the paper casings, shaking the salt over the gasoline soaked bones, effectively salting them.

The spirit suddenly appeared behind Brit and Dean shoved her out of its way. It rushed him and knocked him to the ground. He hit hard and struggled with the corporeal spirit that had him pinned. Kody growled and lunged, but the spirit knocked him away. Finally Dean kicked out and rolled away. It flickered and disappeared. Dean crab crawled backwards to come up against a tree trunk. He was breathing hard, his bloody arm glistening as the moon came out from behind a cloud. The spirit appeared behind Brit as she stood from where she'd fallen. It locked a hand on her shoulder and pulled her into its cold embrace even as Dean raised the shotgun. It sneered at him and raised the tip of the bayonet blade to her throat.

"Shoot him." She said, shaking with fear. She winced when the blade drew a bloody line over her neck.

Dean's hand slipped again on the grip of the gun and he cursed. Something behind the spirit's shoulder caught Dean's eye. _Sam._ He was leaning against a tree, a rifle in his hands. Dean locked eyes with Sam and then looked his brother over. Sam was weak, his aim shaky at best. He leaned heavily against the tree, desperately trying to keep his feet. He took a steadying breath and met Dean's eyes again. Sam nodded, Dean returning it with a barely visible incline of his head, reaching slowly into his jacket pocket and withdrawing a shiny silver object. Sam pushed off the tree silently.

Dean looked the spirit directly in the eyes that had been normal had been when it was alive. Now peering into the yellowed whites and gray irises, Dean sneered. "Look behind you, you fugly bastard." The spirit turned and Brit took her chance when the shock loosened the spirit's grip a miniscule amount.

"Brit, DROP!" Dean said, even as he flicked the Zippo and threw it the scarce two feet to the gas soaked area. He rolled away quickly as the gas ignited into a fireball; flames moving rapidly over the entire rock pile and the four wheeler. Plastic fumes marred the normally clean forest air as it blackened and melted.

She pulled out of the spirit's arms and dropped. Sam fired instantly. The antique flintlock that, for as long as he could remember, was only used for a prop for the false bottom of the trunk roared; shooting sparks out the breech and stinging Sam's shoulder as it kicked . The ball hit the spirit directly in the wound that had killed the man in the first place. The spirit gave an unearthly scream and burst into flame.

Dean picked Brit up off the ground and looked her over for injury. Other than the scratch at her neck she was unharmed. Sam… _Sammy!_

Dean glanced at his brother as Sam staggered and fell hard to the forest floor, the rifle clattering beside him. He breathed raggedly. Dean raced to his side and picked him up. "No more spider bites Sammy. Let's get you the hell outta the dirt." He got Sam to unsteady feet and supported him as he walked to sit on the only remaining four wheeler. Sam pulled one leg up on the foot peg and allowed the other to dangle against the cooling engine. Brit came over and Dean pulled her close as he crouched down and lifted Sam's chin. "You okay, little brother?"

Sam swallowed hard and nodded, trying still to catch his breath from his sprint from the trail head to where they now sat. "Yeah," he finally said. "Don' feel s'good, but m' okay."

Sam, how did you get here?" Brit asked even as an awful thought came to her. He echoed her exact thoughts. _The Rock-crawler._

"The Rock-crawler."

Dean looked at his brother horrified. "You drove that thing up the mountain?!" He asked incredulously. "What the hell made you think of doing something so reckless? Damn, Sammy, if that thing had flipped on you…"

"That last vision I had. I saw you die. Brit too. The spirit killed you both in front of me and then I fought it and it killed me too." Sam cut himself off when he heard the high pitched whine of another ATV. This time a big vehicle resembling a garden tractor with a cab, four seats, and a dump bed rounded the bend in the trail and came to a stop in front of the three young people. A short, stocky man with a gray beard and ball cap got out. He walked towards them, a .50 caliber pistol in a leather holster bouncing low on his hip as he used a gait that betrayed him to be younger than he looked.

"Uncle Jerry!" Brit chimed as she lunged into his arms and gave him a hug. "It's over." She told him quietly. "Aunt Jean can rest."

"I got up here as soon as I lost GPS on your bike Brit." Jerry looked at the twisted hunk of brightly glowing metal and melted plastic with shock on his face. "What the hell happened?"

"It's a long story." Sam, Dean, and Brit all chimed in at once.

Dean leaned in as Sam's head lolled a bit. He was loosing his battle to stay consciousness. "We need to get him back."

"Put him in the Rhino, Dean. Jerry will take you down the logging road and bring you to the house. It's longer but a lot smoother. I'll control the fire, take the wheeler and get a bed ready for him in your cabin." Brit pulled a shovel from the back of the Rhino and made short work of digging a trench around the boulders. The bare ground would hamper the fire. She headed for the four-wheeler, with Kody following closely.

"C'mon Sammy, let's get you on your feet."

"'k De…" Sam slurred. He tried to stand under his own power and his legs immediately gave out. Dean barely caught him because his arm didn't want to work properly. Jerry stepped up quickly and wrapped one of Sam's long arms about his neck. They settled him into the back seat and Dean slid in to keep him upright on the ride back to Brit's place. Jerry, true to Brit's word, took a smooth logging road that was a longer ride but Sam actually relaxed against Dean and dozed during the ride. Once there they got him inside and into his bed after thoroughly checking him for black hitchhikers. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Brit looked at Dean and pulled him aside. "Do you need any help with your arm?"

"Nah, I'll get it. It's not that bad."

"I'll bring you some sandwiches later."

"Don't bother. I just wanna make sure Sammy's okay and crash. It has been one _hell_ of a night. We'll see you in the morning." Dean kissed her cheek and smiled.

Jerry looked at Dean. "You're the big brother, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Dean returned; looking at Sam. "Why?"

"It shows. You're a good one. My oldest brother was like that. He appreciates it, trust me." Jerry said nodding in slumbering Sam's direction. Brit got Jerry by the arm and they walked out of the cabin, going to the house.

The next morning Dean and Sam showed up on Brit's doorstep as promised. Kody greeted both of them with a wagging tail and a black spotted tongue. Sam and Dean both laughed at the dog's antics before going inside. Brit had the island piled high with food for them. All three ate heartily after being tired enough to go to bed without dinner. Sam was quickly regaining his strength and while still sporting a few raised patches of hives and dark smudges beneath his eyes he looked much better.

**A/N: Only one more chapter to go. Looks like the guys have made some friends. What's going to happen next? Just a click away. Last chapter finishes this one up. Please let me know if you liked it! **


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Bobby called worried to death about you and Dean, Sam. I cooled him off and let him know you were okay. He's expecting to hear from you soon. I also explained everything that happened to Uncle Jerry and he is grateful. So am I guys. Now I know my forest is safe for the people that love it here. Thank you both for everything."

"We're just glad we could help."

"I want to help you too. Stay a couple more days. Rest. Take out a couple bikes."

"Y'know, I think we'll just hit the road, find a place to hole up for a bit." Sam said. "I'm not so sure I'm up to trail riding after that second adventure in your rig."

They all laughed and finished the best breakfast they'd had in a very long time. As Brit walked them to the door she hugged them both tight. "You know if you guys need a place to lay low, I'm here. The cops don't like getting their cars muddy." Both Dean and Sam hugged her back. One last pat to Kody's head and they headed to the Impala. Brit crouched down and ran a hand over her dog's soft fur even as she waved to the guys as they backed the car out of the lot. She glanced at her forest with a smile on her face and went back inside.

**A/N: So there it was. This is my story, about land I grew up on. Hope you all enjoyed sharing this with me. It was a blast to write and more fun to get reactions from everyone who took time to read. Love everyone who checked it out and thanks tons to every reviewer. You guys rock!**

**Special note to GalahadsGurl: if you're still following this one I hope Dean's change in his attitude towards Brit helped with the whole name issue. I know you wished it was Sam but Dean _was_ the one being the ass who needed to learn a lesson. Hope to talk to you soon. **

**Catch you all on the next adventure,**

**DS**

**Also to anyone following the current set of stories involving Ruby and the season three events after my story Psyche, I'm working on another installment of that now. Catch you soon with _Escaping Fate. _**


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